


That's the Kind of Love

by egocentrifuge



Category: Mythical Entertainment, Rhett & Link
Genre: Bottom Rhett, M/M, Rimming, bdsm flavored, college rhink, low prep anal (my favorite), strapon, trans!Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: Thirty minutes later - after a brief, mortifying conversation about what Rhett should do in the shower - Link’s spread out across Rhett’s bed in boxers and a t-shirt, silicone dick tenting the button fly obscenely, and Rhett’s -Rhett’s beautiful, honestly, red-faced and wide-eyed as he stands there in just the boxers he’d pulled on after his shower.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	That's the Kind of Love

**Author's Note:**

> this was a commission for the WONDERFUL enthusiasticaudience, who gave me the freedom to do some of my very favorite things :)

Link likes to think that he’s grown into his looks at last. His shoulders have broadened out to offset his narrow waist, his goozle expanded to fill a throat that always felt too skinny, and he’s stopped being surprised by all the new places on his body hair grows (though no less delighted). He’s even kind of grown a dick, which hadn’t been something he’d known would happen, but even as small as the thing is it’s gone a long way to mitigating Link’s dysphoria. 

The thing is, it’s also given him _ideas_.

He'n Rhett have been fooling around since the start of college, congruent to but not at the same time as they’ve been fooling around with girls, and Link’s learned a lot about his own pleasure. Where before it’d been hard to confront everything downstairs to do more than grind off on unsuspecting pillows, Link’s grown to have an appreciation of his vagina and everything it can do for him thanks to the beautiful, wonderful women curious enough to lend him a hand. 

Tracy had been the one to introduce Link to strapons. Good old Tracy. The two of them hadn’t worked out, because she was pretty much only into women, but they still talk. About sex, mainly, because Tracy had taken Link’s shyness as a personal challenge to lead him into carnal liberation, but more and more often their conversations have centered around something - some _one_ else.

“I don’t know,” Link tells her, not for the first time. “It’s pretty - uh, gay, you know? I don’t think he’d go for it.”

“Link, stop selling yourself short. The fact that you two are still screwing around when you’ve got more hair on your chest than he does means something, alright?”

Link twists the cord of their apartment’s phone around his fingers, trying not to sound too pleased when he responds with, “Oh, come on. I’ve still got - you know. Boobs.”

“So do middle aged men,” Tracy retorts, unimpressed. “And you’ve got harrier nipples than most of them, too. He’s not fucking you because you have a pussy, Link, trust me.”

“Well, fine, but - it’s a big thing, right? For guys, I mean. Being, you know, on the receiving end.”

“Honey, I’ve met your boy. He’d roll over for you in a heartbeat.” There’s the _shick_ of a lighter on the other end of the line, then Tracy exhales noisily and continues. “I bet you ten bucks you could put a collar and panties on him and he’d thank you.”

_“Tracy,“_ Link says, blushing furiously. "That’s, that’s - don’t be - ”

“Link,” Tracy interrupts. “Rhett’s already breaking at least one taboo for you. He ain’t gonna be scandalized if you want him to break another, ‘long as you’re doing it together.”

Link’s ruminating on that revelation hard enough that he’s caught off guard when the apartment door opens and almost hangs up on Tracy in a panic. Rhett snorts at him where he’s juggling his backpack and two overfull Burger King bags and it’s all Link can do to stick out his tongue and hunch more protectively over the receiver.

“Hey, it was good talking to you,” he tells Tracy.

“Oh, we’re done? Is he back?”

“Yeah, you too,” Link says, wretched, as she laughs. “Bye.”

“That one of your girls?” Rhett asks after Link’s joined him in the kitchen, busy fitting a dozen Whoppers into the freezer and a thirteenth into his mouth. “I don’t get how you’re still such good friends with 'em all.”

“I was friends with them before we started going together,” Link says, though he’s too nervous to roll his eyes at the well-worn conversation like he normally would. He’s caught between saying something now and squirreling his desire away somewhere it can never embarrass him. It must show on his face, because after Rhett forces the freezer door shut he takes one look at Link and chipmunks his bite of burger.

“What’s up?” he asks. His expression is open, sincere, trusting. Link can’t bear it.

“Can I fuck you?”

Rhett blinks once, twice, then swallows everything in his mouth with some difficulty. Puts the rest of his Whopper back in the carton without making eye contact, ears pink.

“Uh, sure, just let me - yeah, one minute.”

It’s not what Link expects, not by a long shot, and the immediate urgent arousal stops him clarifying that he hadn’t meant now, specifically. Now is good. Now is great, actually.

Thirty minutes later - after a brief, mortifying conversation about what Rhett should do in the shower - Link’s spread out across Rhett’s bed in boxers and a t-shirt, silicone dick tenting the button fly obscenely, and Rhett’s - 

Rhett’s beautiful, honestly, red-faced and wide-eyed as he stands there in just the boxers he’d pulled on after his shower. Link swings his legs over the side of the bed as he sits up. 

“Come here,” he says. 

Rhett’s lips are as soft as they always are when he tumbles into Link’s arms for a kiss, though he lets Link decide when to deepen it, moans when Link fucks into Rhett’s mouth with his tongue. It’s always been one of Link’s favorite things, before he ever knew what was going on with his head/body disconnect; there’s something incredible about being able to be _inside_ someone, whether it’s eating someone out or kissing.

Eating Rhett out, now there’s an idea. 

Pliant as Rhett is currently, it doesn’t take much pressure to get him onto the bed, arranged so he can hold onto his knees.

“Shit,” Rhett says succinctly, embarrassed laugh caught in his throat. “You’re really just gonna - okay, hold your horses, man, jeez - ”

Rhett’s boxers end up next to his towel on the ground as Link spreads Rhett’s cheeks with both hands and stares, greedy.

“C'mon,” Rhett mumbles. There’s a flush working its way down his neck, chest. “Don’t - you’re making it weird.”

“It’s not weird already?” Link asks, only half paying attention to Rhett’s words. His pulse is hammering in his belly, lower; if the dick in his boxers was flesh and blood it’d be twitching.

Rhett whines when Link brushes his thumb against the tight pucker of his opening. So small - how’s anything gonna fit in there? Link tests the give with his dry fingers and Rhett shudders and holds his legs tighter.

“It’s a bit weird,” Rhett confesses. “God, Link, are you gonna fuck me or what?”

Link’s literally dreamed about Rhett asking for this, about sinking into his best friend’s body with no more preamble than that, but he’s trembling with adrenaline and power and there’s a dozen things he wants to do at once.

“You’re eager,” Link says without knowing he’s going to. He almost apologizes when he hears himself, but Rhett swallows loud enough to be heard and his hole winks against Link’s fingers.

“Yeah,” Rhett confesses, barely a whisper.

It’s too much. Link muffles his little growl against Rhett’s body, licks a sloppy line up Rhett’s crack before sealing his mouth around the opening. It makes Rhett gasp, let go of his legs; Link pulls back and shoves them back into Rhett’s hands.

“Keep yourself open for me,” he commands. Link only gets a glimpse of Rhett’s shocked, desperate nod before he’s reapplying himself to his work.

It’s not like eating pussy, though Link’s done it to a few of his girlfriends. Where their lips open readily to a questing tongue, this rim fights penetration, doesn’t yield without pressure and patience. The taste is different, too; there’s soap, and skin, and not much else - a testament to Rhett’s nerves, how thorough he’d been in the shower. Link groans as he imagines it: Rhett tucked up to fit under the showerhead, one hand behind him, working a sudsy finger in and out for _Link_. 

It takes digging his thumbs in on either side of Rhett’s hole and pulling for Link to get his tongue where he wants, deeper, and Rhett makes a muffled noise Link’s never heard him make before somewhere far away. Link’s entire focus is here, _inside_ of Rhett, slick lips and tongue fucking him open with agonizing slowness. The sounds of it are so loud, down here in the action, each sloppy lick and thrust echoing through Link’s head. When he seals his mouth around Rhett’s hole and sucks, one of Rhett’s legs thuds down against Link’s back and startles him out of the trance he’s put himself in.

“Can you, can you,” Rhett pants; Link can feel that he’s trembling, now, and sits up with his jaw aching. Link runs a hand along Rhett’s fuzzy belly like he’s soothing an animal before craning up to kiss him. It’s only when Rhett gasps shakily against Link’s mouth that he realizes it might have been better to ask.

When Link pulls back, Rhett’s eyes are closed. 

“Okay?” Link asks. He - can’t remember if he’s ever asked Rhett that question before, when they’ve fooled around, but then - he’s never done this, never called the shots. Link’s nervous for three heartbeats, until Rhett opens blown-dark eyes and nods, lips parted.

“Want you to fuck me,” he tells Link, voice hoarse from whatever sounds he’d been making while Link’s head was elsewhere. Link ignores the hot lurch the words cause with difficulty.

“I should finger - ”

“No,” Rhett interrupts, squirming. “Just - just go slow? I - I did enough in the shower, I think, and I want…”

His already red cheeks darken. Link feels almost drunk when he says, low, “Tell me.”

Rhett closes his eyes again and takes a shuddering breath. “I want your dick to stretch me out,” he admits, softly. 

It’s too much for Link to hear. He kisses Rhett again, hard enough that his jaw twinges, while fumbling at the front of his boxers. It’s better, with them on, not being able to see the straps holding the toy in place, and beyond that - it’s quicker, too. 

Link brings one hand up to tell Rhett to spit and gets distracted by the sheen on his lips, finds himself pushing two fingers into Rhett’s mouth, instead. Rhett’s tongue is silky smooth and licks obediently at Link’s fingers even as his eyebrows draw up and his throat works around a whine.

“So fucking hot,” Link babbles as he pulls away, smears Rhett’s hole with Rhett’s spit before adding more lube than’s really neccessary to the rigid jut of his cock. “Gonna look so fucking good taking my dick, Rhett, shit.”

“Oh gosh,” Rhett manages. That’s all he has time for before his head’s falling back, Link’s dick rubbing against his rim before finding purchase. Link groans just at the sight of it; he’s aching, inside, throbbing in sympathy as the head of his dick disappears inside of Rhett.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Link says without really hearing himself. “Take it, come on, that’s it, fuck yeah - ”

He makes sure there’s enough lube smeared around Rhett’s hole before edging closer, feeding another inch inside before pulling his hips back, starting to fuck Rhett in slow, shallow little thrusts.

“You’re taking it so well,” Link praises, tearing his eyes away long enough to check Rhett’s tortured face. “Okay, baby? You alright?”

“God, Link.” Rhett gasps, grabbing the hand Link’s using to hold Rhett’s leg up. “More, you can - oh _fuck.”_

Link doesn’t move after he sinks another few inches deeper, gives Rhett the time he needs to adjust even with his body aching, telling him to grind his hips, screaming at him to rut into Rhett’s body. He’s rewarded when Rhett tentatively slides closer to Link, takes the last little bit of Link’s dick on his own.

“Oh fuck,” Rhett repeats, chest heaving. “Come on, please.”

“Please?” Link echoes. Rhett opens his eyes long enough to fix Link with a baleful glare.

“Link,” he says, plaintive. “Just - fuck me, brother.”

It’s all the permission Link needs to give in to his restless hips. He’s turned on enough that he can feel the thrusts in earnest, the sense-memory of where his tongue’d been feeding back into where he’s hard and throbbing, the base of his dick in the perfect place to grind each time he bottoms out. Rhett’s moaning up a storm, fingers tight around Link’s wrist even as each thrust gets easier. It’s not Rhett’s pleasure Link’s chasing when he changes the angle to get better friction against the base of the toy, but the little cry Rhett gives makes Link think he hits something important anyways.

“Okay?” he asks again; Rhett nods wordlessly, mouth open. It’s enough for Link to keep mindlessly pursuing the orgasm he’s not sure he can make happen until it’s crashing against him and he’s bending in half to muffle his curses in Rhett’s chest, hips twitching erratically.

“Link,” Rhett says, voice cracked and desperate. Link barely gathers his composure enough to look up at him before something’s splattering against Link’s chin and he realizes Rhett’s gotten himself the rest of the way there on his own.

Link doesn’t have enough time to be disappointed - he had kind of been thinking about riding Rhett, after this - before the thought Tracy had put in his head is tripping out of his mouth in a rush.

“Would you wear - you know, panties? For me.”

A laugh shudders out of Rhett while he’s still twitching with the aftershocks of his own orgasm. When he opens his eyes, they’re hazy, warm.

“Sure, Link. Anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> come find me at egocentrifuge dot tumblr dot com for commission information and more fic! i don't generally post works under 1k to ao3, and believe me, there's a lot of them, as well as various longer but unfinished series.


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